There has been a bumper crop of documentaries on
globalization in recent years, including "Life and Debt", "The
Corporation" and "The Take". But it would be difficult for me to
imagine anything topping the 2004 "Mondovino"
in terms of dramatic and political depth. Taking as its theme the power of Mondavi and other huge wine multinationals to run roughshod
over much smaller but superior vineries, it would not evoke the same sense of
outrage as films devoted to the plight of landless peasants or sweatshop
workers. In addition, unlike a Naomi Klein or a Michael Moore, director
Jonathan Nossiter does not editorialize. He simply
allows his villains, such as they are, to make the case against themselves
through their obsessive concerns with "marketing" and
"brands". All in all, one is left with the rueful sense of the
inexorability of Walmartization into every nook and
cranny of the planet, including French and Italian vineyards dating back to the
early Middle Ages.

The film is basically a tour of the world's great
wine-producing regions, from France
to Italy to Argentina.
Everywhere he goes, Nossiter interviews principals on
either side of the barricade. There are men and women, usually elderly, who see
wine-making as a kind of blend of art, agriculture and religion in which "terroir" is the key element. This term can be described
as a "sense of place" that is critical in the production of wine grapes,
coffee beans or tobacco or anything that satisfies the palate while stimulating
the nervous system. These substances have been with humanity from the dawn of
history. When they convey the mysterious combination of soil, water and
sunlight of their native roots, they remind us of where we come from in the
deepest sense. However, this "sense of place" collides with the needs
of big wine-making businesses to produce a product that can be delivered to the
marketplace anywhere in the world and at a price that will eliminate the
competition. In that process, civilization's greatest treasures will also be
eliminated, in the same fashion as a museum being looted.

Nossiter accompanies wine
consultant Michel Rolland as goes on his rounds in the Bordeaux
wine producing region. Rolland is a supremely smug and self-amused individual
given to laughing at his own jokes to the point of annoyance. Traveling around
the world, he dispenses advice on how to make wines that are more marketable.
This often involves "micro-oxygenation", a technique that involves
introducing bubbles into fermenting wine in order to shorten the traditional
aging cycle, which obviously gets in the way of efficient profit-making.

Rolland is also a forceful advocate of "Napa-izing" the French vineyards, which in his eyes are
filled with uneconomic practices. But when Mondavi came
to Languedoc
with plans to buy up huge amounts of land, they were stopped in their tracks by
the Communist Mayor Manual Diaz who understood it quite rightly as a typical
imperialist incursion. When asked for his opinion on why they rejected Mondavi's bid, Michel Rolland dismisses them as a bunch of
"dumb peasants." Also interviewed is the previous Mayor, a Socialist,
who was all too happy to do business with Mondavi.
Some things apparently never change when it comes to social democracy.

The Mondavis, like all of the
other "bad guys" in "Mondovino",
are not cardboard figures. They clearly got into the wine business because they
had a love for wine, but as their business grew they became transformed. Robert
Mondavi, the patriarch, eventually found himself in
bitter disputes with his sons about the direction of the business, which were
only resolved, as son Michael puts it, when they became incorporated and put
the "family" side of the business behind them.

Nossiter interviews the Staglin family, another major Napa
grower, who are somewhat easier to detest. The husband Garen
was in the air force during Vietnam
and flew bombing missions for over a year. Afterwards, he was an aide to Henry Kissinger whom he described as a major inspiration. His
wife Sheri claims that they get along famously with their Mexican vineyard workers
who they treat like "family," which amounts to bestowing t-shirts with
the company logo at Christmas time.

It turns out that the Mondavis
have an easier time doing business in Italy,
which is blessed by having an Prime Minister who is on record as stating that
Mussolini was "not that bad." If anything the Italian aristocrats who
partner with Mondavi are even more sleazy than the Staglins. When Nossiter asks
their opinion on Mussolini, Dino Frescobaldi points
out that "the trains ran on time." AlbieraAntinori, another Mondavi
partner, says "What you need to know is that Italy,
at that time, needed a strong, energetic hand, and fascism did bring about a
certain order."

We learn from the documentary that the big-time trade
publication "The Wine Spectator" is totally committed to the Napa-ization of the wine industry worldwide. It's European
bureau chief James Suckling is a perfect twit who compares the French
unfavorably to the Italians, who are not burdened with a socialist government.

But the most repellent figure has to be Robert Parker, the powerful
wine critic who has spearheaded the homogenizing process decried by the film.
In a March 22nd NY Times profile on Parker, the paper's own wine critic Eric Asimov (son of the science fiction author) referred his
appearance in "Mondovino":

Jonathan Nossiter's documentary "Mondovino,"
released in the United States in 2005, juxtaposed Mr. Parker with a
Burger King sign and portrayed him as an emblem of opulent globalized
wine and an enemy of diversity, terroir and nuance. A
2005 biography, "The Emperor of Wine" by Elin
McCoy (Ecco), expressed concern about a world
dominated by "the tyranny of one palate."

Given the NY Times's general
embrace of globalization, symbolized most dramatically by Thomas Friedman's
obnoxious columns, it should not come as a surprise that Asimov's
article is basically an opportunity for Parker to defend himself against such
criticisms.

The film ends with a trip to Argentina
where it contrasts two growers, one a bourgeois businessman who has brought in
Michel Rolland for advice and the other an indigenous peasant who grows wine
grapes for love rather than profit. He makes about $60 per month. The
businessman blames "laziness" for Argentina's
problems, while the Indian makes wine in the same way that indigenous peoples
in the Americas
cultivated tobacco, chocolate, and alcohol from time immemorial--as a way of
celebrating their humanity and their connection to the Eternal. When Nossiter drinks a glass of the Indian's white wine, he
reacts as if he has tasted the nectar of the gods.

("Mondovino" is
available on DVD/Video from your better stores and on the Internet.)